It has been said, and it is often repeated, that if you strip a Spaniard of his virtues, the residuum will be a Portuguese. This cruel statement is rather the result of prejudice than arising from any foundation in fact. It has a superficial cleverness which attracts some people, and especially those who have but an imperfect knowledge of the true life and character of the people thus stigmatised.

Lord Londonderry, in Chapter VI. of his Narrative of the Peninsular War, writes thus of the difference of character between the two nations: "Having halted at Elvas during the night, we marched next morning soon after dawn; and, passing through a plain of considerable extent, crossed the Guadiana at Badajoz, the capital of Estremadura. This movement introduced us at once into Spain; and the contrast, both in personal appearance and in manners, between the people of the two nations, which was instantly presented to us, I shall not readily forget. Generally speaking, the natives of frontier districts partake almost as much of the character of one nation as of another.... It is not so on the borders of Spain and Portugal. The peasant who cultivates his little field, or tends his flock on the right bank of the Guadiana, is, in all his habits and notions, a different being from the peasant who pursues similar occupations on its left bank; the first is a genuine Portuguese, the last is a genuine Spaniard.... They cordially detest one another; insomuch that their common wrongs and their common enmity to the French were not sufficient, even at this time, to eradicate the feeling.

"It was not, however, by the striking diversity of private character alone which subsisted between them, that we were made sensible, as soon as we had passed the Guadiana, that a new nation was before us. The Spaniards received us with a degree of indifference to which we had not hitherto been accustomed. They were certainly not uncivil.... Whatever we required they gave us, in return for our money; but as to enthusiasm or a desire to anticipate our wants, there was not the shadow of an appearance of anything of the kind about them. How different all this from the poor Portuguese, who never failed to rend the air with their vivats, and were at all times full of promises and protestations, no matter how incapable they might be of fulfilling the one or authenticating the other! The truth is that the Spaniard is a proud, independent, and grave personage; possessing many excellent qualities, but quite conscious of their existence, and not unapt to overrate them.... Yet with all this, there was much about the air and manner of the Spaniards to deserve and command our regard. The Portuguese are a people that require rousing; they are indolent, lazy, and generally helpless. We may value these our faithful allies, and render them useful; but it is impossible highly to respect them. In the Spanish character, on the contrary, there is mixed up a great deal of haughtiness, a sort of manly independence of spirit, which you cannot but admire, even though aware that it will render them by many degrees less amenable to your wishes than their neighbours."

With due allowance for time and circumstances, much in this passage might have been written to-day instead of nearly ninety years ago, and one cause of the difference in feeling is no doubt explained truly enough. Perhaps some shallow persons are affected by the fact that in good looks the Portuguese are as a race inferior to the Spaniards. But there is no such real difference in character as to justify an impartial observer in using a phrase so essentially galling to England's allies, of whom Napier said: "The bulk of the people were, however, staunch in their country's cause ... ready at the call of honour, and susceptible of discipline, without any loss of energy."

Throughout the whole Iberian Peninsula the main axiom of life appears to be the same: "Never do to-day what you can put off to to-morrow." On the left bank of the Guadiana it is summarised by the word maÑana; on the right bank the word used is amanhÃ. There is only a phonetic distinction between the Spanish and the Portuguese idea. It is necessary for the traveller in these countries to keep this axiom well in mind, for it affords a clue to character and conduct the value of which cannot be over-estimated, and not only to the character and conduct of individuals, but to the whole national life of the inhabitants. In Portugal it permeates all public and municipal life, and appears to affect most especially that portion of the population who do not earn their living by manual labour. The higher one goes up the scale, the greater becomes the evidence of the ingrained habits of dilatoriness and procrastination, and so any hard work on the part of the lower class of toilers cannot be properly directed, and the commerce and industry of the country either dwindle away together, or fall into the hands of more energetic and active foreigners, who naturally carry off the profits which should be properly applied to the welfare and prosperity of the Lusitanians.The mineral wealth and natural resources of the country are enormous, and it is really sad to contemplate the little use that is made of the one or of the other unless developed by alien energy and worked by alien capital. As regards this latter important factor, the administrative corruption and the unsound state of the national finances render it difficult to find foreign capitalists who are able and willing to embark in the industrial enterprises, the successful issue of which affords the only chance for this most interesting nation to recover something of its ancient prosperity and to once more take a position in the world worthy of the land of the hardy sailors and valiant captains who have left so imperishable a record over the earth's surface.

The intellectual life of Portugal seems to have ceased with Camoens. It is rather pathetic the way in which the ordinary educated Portuguese refers back to the great poet and to the heroic period which he commemorated. No conversation of any length can be carried on without a reference to Camoens and to Vasco da Gama. All history and all progress appear to have culminated and stopped then. Apparently nothing worthy of note has happened since. Camoens returned to Lisbon in 1569, and his great epic poem saw the light in 1572. He died in a public hospital in Lisbon in 1579 or 1580. In the latter year began the "sixty years' captivity," when Portugal became merely a Spanish province; yet there is no recollection of this—except the ingrained hatred of Spaniards and of everything Spanish—or of the shaking off the yoke in 1640, and of the battle of Amexial in 1663, where the English contingent bore the brunt of the battle, and the "Portugueses," as they are called by the author of An Account of the Court of Portugal, published in 1700, claimed the principal part of the honour. The traces of the Peninsular War have faded away, and on the lines of Torres Vedras there is scarcely any tradition of the cause of their existence. In Lisbon, indeed, there is one incident of later date than Camoens, which is considered worthy of remembrance,—the great earthquake of 1755,—but this can scarcely be looked upon as a national achievement, or a matter of intellectual development.

That Camoens is a fitting object for a nation's veneration cannot for a moment be doubted. The high encomium passed upon "the Student, the Soldier, the Traveller, the Patriot, the Poet, the mighty Man of Genius" by Burton, appears to be in no way exaggerated. The healthful influence of his life and writings has done and is still doing good in his beloved country. But though the man who in his lifetime was neglected, and who was allowed to die in the depths of poverty and misery, is now the most honoured of his countrymen, and his rank as one of the world's great poets is universally acknowledged, his labours have been to a certain extent in vain.Not only industry, but culture, literature, and art appear to be infested with the mildew of decay. There is a good university at Coimbra, where alone, it is said, the language is spoken correctly. There is an excellent system of elementary and secondary schools, but in practice it is incomplete and subject to many abuses, like most public institutions in the country. The irregularities of the language, without authoritative spelling or pronunciation, and the best dictionary of which is Brazilian, have a bad effect upon the literature of the country.

The language, more purely Latin in its base than either of the other Latin tongues, with an admixture of Moorish, and strengthened by the admission of many words of foreign origin, introduced during the period of great commercial prosperity, possesses ample means for the expression of ideas and of shades of thought, and though it loses somewhat of the musical quality of the other languages in consequence of a rather large percentage of the nasal tones which are peculiar to it, yet it will hold its own well with the remaining members of the group.

Whatever the cause, however, there is hardly any general literature; almost the only books (not professional or technical) which are published, appear to be translations of French novels—not of the highest class. Perhaps in the study of archÆology and folklore is to be found the most cultured phase of Portuguese intelligence. The ArchÆological Society of Lisbon strives to do good work, and has a museum with interesting relics in the old church of the Carmo, itself one of the most interesting and graceful ruins left out of the havoc caused by the great earthquake.

As might be expected under such circumstances, the newspapers are, with few exceptions, of the "rag" variety. Conducted for the most part by clever young fellows fresh from Coimbra, they are violent in their views and incorrect in their news, especially with regard to foreign intelligence. They have some influence, no doubt, but not so much as the same type of newspaper in France. The habitual want of veracity of the Portuguese character is naturally emphasised in the newspapers, and no one in his senses would believe any statement made in them.

A sure sign of the decadence of intellectual life, as well as of commercial activity, is to be found in the postal service, with its antiquated methods and imperfect arrangements. It is administered in a happy-go-lucky manner, which amuses at the same time that it annoys. Truly, with the post-office, it is well constantly to repeat to one's self the phrase: "Patience! all will be well to-morrow!" Probably it won't be well; but none but a foolish Englishman or Frenchman or German will bother about such a little matter.

A kindly, brave, docile, dishonest, patient, and courteous people, who, to quote Napier "retain a sense of injury or insult with incredible tenacity;" and a due observance of their customs and proper politeness are so readily met, and friendly advances are so freely proffered, that a sojourn amongst them is pleasant enough. I have wondered that the tourist has not found his way more into this smiling land, though, no doubt, his absence is a matter of congratulation to the traveller in these regions. The country has many beauties, the people and their costumes are picturesque, and the cost of living—even allowing for a considerable percentage of cheating—is not excessive. There is, I suppose, a want of the ordinary attractions for the pure tourist or globe-trotter. There are churches, monuments, and objects of interest in goodly numbers, and there is beautiful scenery in great variety; but the true attraction to a thoughtful visitor lies in the contemplation of the people themselves.

The Portuguese, taken as a whole, are not a good-looking race. The women, who, as a rule, are very pretty as little girls, lose their good looks as they grow up, and are disappointing when compared with the Spaniards. Sometimes one comes across fish- or market-women of considerable comeliness, which, when conjoined to the graceful figure and poise induced by the habitual carriage of heavy weights on the head and the absence of shoes, makes a striking picture. The costume is attractive, and the wealth of golden ear-rings, charms, chains, and such like, in which these women invest their savings, does not somehow seem anomalous or incongruous, though shown on a background of dirty and ragged clothing.

One unfortunate peculiarity that cannot help being noticed is the number of persons whose eyes are not on the same level. When this does not amount to an actual disfigurement, it is still a blemish which prevents many a young girl from being classed as a beauty. This and the peculiar notched or cleft teeth seem to point to an hereditary taint. Also unmistakable signs of a greater or lesser admixture of black blood are numerous. As a rule, the Portuguese are dark-complexioned, with large dark eyes and black hair; but, of course, one meets many exceptions. The men of the working class are fond of wearing enormous bushy whiskers, and women of all classes are accustomed to wear moustachios. The thin line of softest down which accentuates the ripe lips of the senhorina of some seventeen summers becomes an unattractive incident in the broad countenance of the stout lady of advancing years; and when, as sometimes happens, the hirsute appendages take the form of a thin, straggling beard, with a tooth-brush moustache, it can only be described as an unmitigated horror.

Society in Portugal is very mixed. There are the old fidalgos, haughty and unapproachable, and often very poor, the descendants of the nobles whose duplicity, ability in intrigue, and want of patriotism are so often alluded to in the pages of Napier. Then there are the new nobility, the "titled Brasileros," as Galenga calls them, who have come back from Brazil to their native land with large fortunes acquired somehow, and who practically buy titles, as well as lands and houses. Wealthy tradesmen, also, hold a special position in the mixed middle class. There is, too, a curious blending of old-fashioned courtesy with democratic sentiments. The tradesman welcomes his customers with effusive politeness—shakes hands as he invites them to sit down, and chats with these perhaps titled ladies without any affectation or assumption. After a while the parties turn to business. A sort of Oriental bargaining takes place, the seller asking twice as much as the object is worth and he intends to take. The purchaser meets this with an offer of about half what she intends to give. With the utmost politeness and civility the negotiations are conducted on either side. Each gives way little by little, and in the end a bargain is struck. The amounts involved appear to be enormous, as the reis are computed by thousands and hundreds; but, then, the real is only worth about the thousandth part of three shillings and twopence at the present rate of exchange, and the long and exciting transaction, in all its various phases, has resulted in one or other of the parties having scored or missed a small victory. Verily, even to the loser, the pleasure is cheap at the price.

The Brazilian element is most conspicuous in Lisbon, and partly in consequence that city is only a little modern capital, somewhat feebly imitating Paris in certain ways, and, consequently, lacking the individuality and interest of Oporto. Yet Lisbon has a charm of its own; and the beauties of the Aveneida, the Roscio (known to the English as the "Rolling Motion Square," from its curious pattern of black and white pavement), the Black Horse Square, the broad and beautiful Tagus, the hills whereon the city is built, and the lovely gardens with their sub-tropical vegetation, will repay a stay of some weeks' duration.

Outside the mercantile element, there is considerable difficulty for a stranger to formulate the boundaries of other social strata. It would appear that the professions are in an indifferent position. Lawyers, of course, as in most other countries, are looked upon as rogues. How far this is the effect of the general prejudice, or whether it has any special foundation in fact, it would be hard to say. No doubt there are upright men amongst them, as in every other walk of life. There is a general idea that the medical training is lax, and the doctors, as a rule, are not highly considered. It is admitted, however, that they are as devoted, and as ready to risk their own lives, as those of other countries, a fact which was fully proved by several of the doctors at Oporto and Lisbon on the occasion of the outbreak of the plague in 1899.The system of fees in general use tends to damage the position of both lawyers and doctors. In reply to the question as to his indebtedness, the client or the patient is told: "What you please." This sounds courteous, but is, in effect, embarrassing, as it is hard to estimate what is a fair fee under the circumstances, and generally one or the other of the parties is dissatisfied, and a sore feeling is left behind.

There are several orders of knighthood, which are showered about on occasion. The reasons for giving them are various. For instance, a Court tradesman may receive a decoration in lieu of immediate payment of a long-standing bill. The ribbons and buttons are not worn so freely as elsewhere on the Continent. The polite style in addressing a stranger is in the third person, and such titles as Your Excellency, Your Lordship, and Your Worship, sometimes enlarged with the adjective illustrissimo (most illustrious), are common enough. When an Englishman is first addressed as Vossa Illustrissima Excellencia (Your Most Illustrious Excellency), he begins to feel as if he were playing a part in one of Gilbert and Sullivan's comic operas. He soon gets used to it, however, and accepts the superlatives without turning a hair.

Of all classes it may be said that their manners are, on the whole, good, and their morals generally lax. Cleanliness has no special place assigned to it amongst the virtues. If it comes next to godliness, then the latter must be very low down the scale. It seems incredible, but verminous heads are to be found in the ranks of well-to-do tradespeople. Fleas and bugs abound, and happy is he whose skin is too tough, or whose flesh is too sour, to attract these ferocious insects. There is not much luxury and there is a fair amount of thrift, while frugality of living is common, especially among the populace.

One great characteristic is the intense love of children which is exhibited by all classes, and there is no surer way to the good will of a native than a kindness, however slight, to a child in whom he or she is interested. As is natural under such circumstances, the children are shockingly indulged and spoilt, with all the resultant unpleasant and evil consequences. Cats, also, are great favourites with the Portuguese, and the thousands of shabby animals of Lisbon and Oporto show no sign of fear if a stranger stops to stroke them. They are accustomed to kind treatment, and look upon all human beings as friends.

As a rule, a rather large number of servants are employed. They are poorly paid, and in many households indifferently fed and housed. Often they are dirty, lazy, dishonest sluts. They chatter shrilly with the master or mistress, answer and argue when told of any shortcoming, and are always ready to go off at a moment's notice. But they are often capable of devoted service, and of a sincere desire to be obliging, and may always be counted on to exhibit the utmost kindness to the children of the house. Their written references, as a rule, are frauds. If you ask for the boas referencias (good references), so often mentioned in the advertisements of criadas (female servants), you will probably find that, even if genuine, they are antiquated, and that they leave many gaps between the various periods of service which can only be filled up by conjecture. Criadas are not, as a rule, of immaculate virtue, and give some trouble by their desire to go to festas and to servants' balls. The male servants are, as a rule, better than the criadas. Servants are somewhat roughly treated, and are ordered about as if they were dogs. It is always said that they do not understand or appreciate milder or more civil treatment, and are inclined to despise a master or mistress who uses the Portuguese equivalent to "please," or who acknowledges a service with thanks. I am inclined to doubt this, both from my personal observation and from a casual remark made to me by the landlady of a hotel at Cintra, that her waiters and servants much preferred English to native visitors, because of the greater politeness and consideration shown to them by the former. Of course, as in all other countries, servants are described as one of the greatest plagues in life; but this must be taken for what it is worth. And what would the ladies do without such a subject to grumble about?

Portugal is a poor country, despite its natural resources. The wealthy people are few, and consist mainly of returned Brazilians. It cannot be said, either, that the classes in the enjoyment of a competence constitute a fair average of the community. But the poor are very abundant. Wages are terribly low, even a foreman in an engineering shop getting only a milrei a day, averaging 3s. 2d. in English money. On the other hand, it must be remembered that in such a climate the "living wage" is necessarily lower than in England. Many necessities in England are superfluities or even inconveniences under sunnier skies. The people, too, are very frugal, and even in towns, though rents be high, all other necessaries are moderate in price. The standard of life is not high, and the people are contented with a style of living which would be indignantly rejected by English labourers.

The artisans are not good workmen, but plod on fairly well, and, with the exception of festas, require few holidays. They prefer to work on Sundays, and grumble at their English employers, who generally split the difference, by closing their shops for half a day. They look upon this as a grievance, however much they may be assured that it makes no difference in their wages.

A very hard-working class of men are the Gallegos, the natives of Galicia, who are nearly as numerous in Lisbon as they were when Napier wrote, and where, then as now, they act as porters, messengers, scavengers, and water-carriers, and are found in all sorts of lowly and laborious occupations. As porters and messengers, they have an excellent reputation for honesty, and for being most civil and obliging. Gallenga, a fairly shrewd observer, considers that the employment of these Spaniards has deplorable effects on the character of the Portuguese nation. I cannot go all the way with him in the gloomy view he takes of it, but it must be conceded that the existence of such a body of aliens (estimated at twelve thousand in Lisbon alone) working hard and well at occupations which the Portuguese will not do at all, or, if they attempt them, will do indifferently; herding together some ten or twelve in a small room, living on maize bread and a clove of garlic washed down with water; accepting thankfully a very attenuated hire, and yet contriving to send substantial savings back to Galicia,—must considerably affect the labour market and tend to keep wages low. They also close certain forms of labour to the native worker, and cause these industries to be looked on with contempt.

In towns like Lisbon and Oporto a great number of persons are employed in the fish trade. The fish-girls, with their distinctive costumes, their bare feet, and the graceful poise of the heavy basket of fish on their heads, are a very characteristic feature of both towns. The costumes differ in the two cities, mainly in the head-gear, but they are both picturesque and dirty, and emit the same "ancient and fish-like smell." The men, too, with their bare legs and feet, balancing a long pole on the shoulder, with a basket of fish at each end, will cover a marvellous amount of ground in a day at the curious trotting pace which they affect. Miles inland these men will carry their finny wares, stopping at the public water-supplies to moisten the cloth which protects the fish from the sun and dust. These may or may not be fresh when the day's work is nearly done, but housewives purchasing a supply in the afternoon had better keep a very sharp look-out.

Fish plays an important part in the domestic economy of dwellers within a reasonable distance of the sea, and forms a considerable item in the food-stuffs of the working classes. It is fairly cheap, and is cooked so as to get the full value of it. More important than the fresh fish is the salted cod (bacalhao). This, which Napier described as "the ordinary food of the Portuguese," is the backbone of the worker's menu. It is not fragrant, nor is it inviting in aspect in its raw state, but it is said to be highly nutritive, and it can certainly be cooked in ways which make it appetising. The midday meal, which the wife brings to her husband at his work, and shares with him as they sit in the shade, is often composed of a caldo (soup) made of bacalhao, or of all sorts of oddments, thickened with beans and flavoured with garlic, accompanied by a bit of rye-bread or of broa, the bread made from maize. These soups and breads, accompanied by salads, onions, tomatoes, and other vegetables, washed down with draughts of a light red table-wine of little alcoholic strength, form the not unwholesome average diet of the worker with his hands. If he wants to get drunk, he can do so, with some difficulty, by imbibing sufficient wine, but the easiest method is to drink the fearful crude spirit aguardente. If he survives, he gets horribly, brutally drunk, and possibly does some mischief before he recovers. But it is only fair to say that he but rarely gets drunk, and that when he is thirsty he quenches his thirst with water, with a harmless decoction of herbs or lemonade, or with the almost innocuous wine. This sobriety is not the result of any temperance legislation or restrictions. No license is required for opening a shop for the sale of liquor. Only revenue dues and octroi duties have to be paid, and, of course, there is a liability to police supervision, which provides the police with a means of increasing their very inadequate pay by bribes or blackmail.

The amusements of the workman in the town are few enough, and mostly of a domestic character. He sits on his doorstep, or on a bench in the nearest gardens. He smokes the eternal cigarette, gossips with his neighbours, plays with his children, and pets the cat. His only real playtimes are the festas, when for some hours he indulges in revelry—if, indeed, it be worthy of such a title. He reads the newspaper but little,—if he can read at all,—which is, perhaps, a good thing for him, and he is generally a Republican. This Republicanism is mostly academic, but the "red" type is not wanting, and a fiery spirit might be roused at any time, with consequences that cannot be foreseen. Of course, the younger men tinkle the guitar, and make love more or less openly to the girls. When age overtakes a man or misfortune overpowers him, there is no poor law to take him in charge, but there are extensive and well-organised charities in every centre which are eager and willing to assist those who are temporarily afflicted, and to afford sustenance—a bare sustenance, perhaps—to those who are permanently disabled.

The amusements of the town—the theatre, the concert, and the opera—do not affect the workman much; his budget does not allow of such indulgence, except on the occasion of a free performance. Though they are fairly musical and love the theatre, the Portuguese have no really Æsthetic side to their character. There is a queer song and dance, topical and rather broad, the chula, the somewhat monotonous refrain of which is to be heard everywhere and at all hours, and from all manners of lips. The washerwomen kneeling by the brook bang the unfortunate clothes on the flat stones in rhythm with the tune, and beguile the time with the interminable song. It arises in unexpected places, and is a fairly sure item in the gathering of the younger folk, both in towns and villages, in the cool of the evening. Concerts and theatres are fairly patronised by the more moneyed classes, but the performances are not, as a rule, of a very high calibre. There is a subsidised theatre at Lisbon, but it does little to elevate the dramatic art elsewhere.